


The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by IcyAndTheFrostBites



Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Character Parallels, Christmas, Gen, I think I killed someone oops, Maybe Maybe Not, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pairings I probably won't ever write again, Plague Rat Advent Calendar, christmas collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:23:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyAndTheFrostBites/pseuds/IcyAndTheFrostBites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of winter holiday drabbles, one-shots (maybe multi-shots), and who knows what else for the Rise of the Guardians of Childhood fandom! Note: Characters subject to change daily. </p><p>On TEMPORARY HIATUS until December 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Across the Sky: Man in the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, fellas and fillies. I’m iOc and this… is my collection of stories for the Plague Rat Advent Calendar. Aaaaaaaaand most of you probably don’t even know what I’m talking about. The PRAC is for Emilie Autumn fans who wish to do their part in celebrating the holidays. (Just google “plague rat advent calendar 2013” and click the first link. It should be THE ASYLUM or something like that.)  
> Anyway, welcome to my madness and enjoy. This is day 1. (I’m still working on day 2.) I plan to complete all of the days, but we’ll see what my schedule will allow. Finals coming up and all that. Enjoy!  
> 

Have you ever wondered what it is like to be alone? Truly alone? As in, there is no one — no living being, other than yourself — on an entire celestial body?

  
For the Man in the Moon, or Tsar Máni Hyperionevich Orionus Lunanoff, this was an ordinary day. He would often spend long hour alone, watching over the beautiful blue and brown and green planet with swirls of white below him. He always awaited the moment when at least one of his moonbeams would return to him. They were often away, protecting and looking after the children on the planet; very few of his moonbeams were ever in the same place at the same time.

While he was happy to see the people flourish, it meant that there were more children to look after and more time for him to be alone with his thoughts — it was just him and the moonbots that raised him. Curious things, moonbots; they never aged, never felt emotion, and could never supplement living beings. 

Oh, he had many friends below and otherwise, but they were oft busy with their duties and adventures. He never liked to burden them with his inquiries and needs to socialize. It would be too troublesome to give them any of his, well, trouble. Besides, just calling them would send them into a spin! — and leave them very confused.

His dear and most helpful friends were called the Guardians of Childhood — and they rightly protected those whose innocence and beliefs were the strongest. The children of planet Earth were very much in need of guardians.

He could not remember the first time he set eyes on the planet, he had been much too young — an infant! But he remembered how it made him feel: protected, wanted. He had a duty here to these people, but it was a lonely life, up here in the night sky…

Máni sighed and pressed one of the many buttons — against a great many more and several levers. The screen in front of him, which previously just showed Earth, lit up with little, glowing blips. The blips traced zig-zaggy patterns across the planet, their movements erratic. He smiled when he aw two of the blips heading home, to him. He greeted them happily.

Moonbeams and beautiful to look at, and quite bright. They are little balls with something reminiscent to arms and something that resembles a face. Really, they are friendly and gentle creatures that never need be feared. They loved their Máni, and he loved them — each and every one. When they saw him, they let out little shrill squeaks and dashed over to nuzzle his cheeks.

Máni basked in the warmth they gave and patted them each.

“Hello, little friends.” he said. “What new do you bring?”

One had met Jack Frost — for the first time! — and reported that he had created an awful snowstorm that was sure to keep the children out of their schools a day or two. The other spoke of a tragedy in a small town. A gunman had somehow got in to an elementary school and killed several children.  
Máni thanked them both and sent them on their ways. He sighed and headed back to his seat in front of the screen. He looked out on planet Earth, trying to find the little town. Below, he could faintly see a golden cloud swirl in the air and hover over a particular spot. 

That must be it, he thought. Secretly, he had been hoping that he would have to tell his dear friend, Sanderson Mansnoozie, to check on the children and give them pleasant dreams. But it was a nasty thought, and he scolded himself for even thinking it.

He leaned back and the chair gave a soft sigh of protest, a familiar sound and it was much welcomed. It was always quiet here, in the loneliness. Such is the life of the Man in the Moon — who travels across the sky — watching everyone and protecting us all.


	2. Chambermaid: Pitch, Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not your chambermaid,  
> You're not my lord.  
> All the fine games we played  
> Have left me bored.  
> I never want to see you come around my castle  
> 'Cause I just can't afford to love you.  
> I'm not your chambermaid,  
> You're not my lord."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… day 2 is still under work. But I got day 3! And I wrote a little pairing I never thought I could do. You’ll see when you read it.
> 
> This one’s short (written during a few minutes during class today). I… really didn’t know what to do with it, in all honesty. This just sort of came out.
> 
> Enjoy.

He reaches toward her, fingers brushing her arm. She backs away, ducking her chin down to her collar bone. She keeps her eyes averted from his face. She does not remember what is so appealing about the man.

Perhaps it was the thought of him, the _**novel** _ idea that he was her’s and her’s alone. But he was married — and a _**child**_! How could any man do such a thing to those he loved — _**said** _ he loved.

“Why do you back away?” he asks, reaching toward her again.

She steps further back, depending on the shadows to hide her.

 _But the shadows are where_ **he** _lives_ , she says to herself. _The shadows are his domain._

He tries to urge her out, calling her “little bird” and “sweet” and “pet.” Not “love,” she notices. _**Never** _ “love.” She shakes her head vehemently. She will have nothing to do with him.

“Toothiana.” he says, calling her by her forename. She can feel his eyes, the strangest and sickest shade of amber she had ever seen, burning into her. “Join me. _**Please**_.”

She peeks up, seeing him gesture to the bed. It is neatly made and looks soft. But the thought — knowing he has a wife and a child — of being with him… she shudders at the idea.

But, by refusing, he could ruin her — her reputation and everything her mother worked so hard for. He could ruin everything about her, in just a quiet whisper in another’s ear. She could not do that to her family. And yet… the thought of refusing him something he wants is a temptation so sweet and divine, she _**longs** _ to defy him.

“I’m not your chambermaid,” she says, raising her chin and meeting his eyes, “and you’re not my lord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Interesting pairing for me. I’m thinking this is either during the Victorian Era or late Imperial Russia or something along those lines. *headdesk* As I said before, I didn’t know what to do with this.
> 
> Anyway. Thinking of just posting day 2 on Dec. 25 because it’s my choice which ong of Emilie Autumn’s I use and I like that song, so… yeah.


	3. Rapunzel: Jack, Jamie, Sophie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sophie feels like Rapunzel and there are Jamie/Jack parallels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be one of the ones I continue with later, mostly because of the ending. Yeah, I’m a bad person for writing that ending. You can hate me after you read it.

“ _But when the sun went down,_  
 _The stars came out._  
 _She heard them shout~_ ”

“Why are you always singing?”

Sophie jumped at the voice. She turned, pressing her hand to her heart. It was only her older brother. While she did not always appreciate his comments, she loved his company. They hardly ever spent any time together anymore, he being in college and she still oh so much younger.

“When did you get home?” she asked, standing up and wrapping her arms around him. Jamie returned it with a warm embrace of his own. He was skinny as ever, though he _**had** _ gained a little pudge around his belly — freshman fifteen, as it was called. She nuzzled his stomach, feeling the softness underneath his worn T-shirt and breathing in his scent. She missed him, she decided.

“A few minutes ago.”

“And you’re already criticizing my singing? Jamie Bennett, I ought to chop you to bits and feed you to the birds.”

He snorted and released her, ruffling her hair.

“Did you cut your hair?” he asked, noticing the length for the first time.

“Over a month ago. What, didn’t notice during our video chats?”

The two shared a smile, one of those all-knowing smiles siblings would sometimes share if they had a secret between them. And the Bennett siblings had many secrets between the two of them — and ones they shared with some of the childhood friends of Jamie. 

“Have you seen Jack lately?” he asked, sitting on her bed as she moved back to the window seat.

“He says ‘hello,’ as always.” she replied. “He and Bunny are fighting again. I’m not sure what’s going on between them, but it’s something big this time. I tried to ask Sandy, but he put me to sleep. Literally.”

She giggled softly, feeling the phlegm in the back of her throat start to tickle. She tried to clear it, but to no avail.

Jack was none other than Jack Frost, the winter spirit who brought snow and ice to every corner of the planet. Bunny — or E. Aster Bunnymund — was the Easter bunny, much to the amusement of everyone who knew him. And Sandy was the Sandman, full name being Sanderson Mansnoozie.  
The siblings, as well as Jamie’s friends had helped the trio — as well as Santa Claus, better known as Nicholas St. North, and the Tooth fairy, a.k.a. Queen Toothiana — to defeat a shadow of a man named Pitch Black. It had been their belief and courage that had aided the ones known as the Guardians of Childhood to defend the Earth and help the Man in the Moon — still an odd thought to know the moon was a _**spaceship**_ , of all things.

“You okay, Sophie?” Jamie asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at her. She never liked seeing him concerned. He was always concerned when they were growing up, after their battle with Pitch. After learning Jack’s history — something Jamie vehemently _**refused** _ to tell her — he was always there, watching and protecting her. It was particularly annoying when she started junior high. He had a tendency to scare off potential boyfriends.

“Boys are only interested in one thing, Sophie,” he had said when she returned home, red-eyed and angry.

“ _ **What**_ ’s this _**thing** _ you keep telling me about?” she had asked. Jamie had gone red in the face and stuttered out an incoherent sentence. She knew now what he had been talking about —and she loved him for it, honest — but the whole protective-older-sibling-thing was getting old.

“I’m fine.” she said, smiling at him. “Just… the cool weather is starting to bother my throat. I think I’m going to have to start wearing scarves when I go outside.”

He nodded, still frowning. She reassured him again, going over to him and cuddling as they once did when she was younger. He wrapped his arms around her again and held her close, pecking her on the forehead.

“Promise me you’ll be okay when I go back to school?” he asked into her hair.

“Promise.” she said.

* * *

Jamie returned to school a few days later. For a week or two after that, he texted her every hour. She almost had her phone taken away from her teacher after he called her when she didn’t respond to him.

“I feel like he wants me to be Rapunzel.” she said to her best friend, Macy, during lunch one afternoon.

“Who?” Macy asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Right. Forgot you didn’t grow up on fairy tales, ghost stories, and mac and cheese.”

“Ech. Mac and cheese. Seriously, Sophie, how can you eat that crap? You should try being vegan, you’ll feel much healthier.”

“I eat enough carrots and hummus at your house to last me a lifetime. Now, come on, I’ve told you the story about Rapunzel before, remember?”

“Girl locked in a tower. Disney made a movie about her right?”

“Yeah, but the actual story’s sadder. I can’t believe my mom let Jamie read those stories to me as a kid. I’m mentally scarred, you know that?”

“And how! Hey, want to come over later?”

“Can’t. Jamie’s coming home this weekend and the pond is finally solid enough to go skating on. Want to come?”

“Outside? In the cold? No thanks.” Macy said. “Your brother is hot but not hot enough to keep me outside more than necessary.”

Sophie rolled her eyes and went back to eating the baked potato soup she loved.

* * *

She cleared her throat and pulled the scarf up to cover her nose and mouth. She could see little puffs of her breath pass through every now and again. She bounced on her toes as she waited for her brother to reassure their mother one final time that they’d be safe and that they’d be back for dark.

“She acts like I’m till eight.” he said, sticking his hands in his pocket.

“Well, physically you’re eighteen, but mentally you’re still eight.” Sophie said, having to take two steps for every one of his. She was careful not to catch the blades of her ice skates on anything. They were sharp and could cause some serious damage. “And you’re her only son, so you’ve got to forgive her. I mean, you _**are** _ still interested in the same things.”

“Speaking of that. I’m changing my degree.”

“Oh? To what?”

“Children’s literature.”

“That’s a degree? An _**actual** _ degree?”

“Apparently.”

“Why?”

“I want to write children’s books and the only way I can do that is to major in it and get a good job at a company that specializes in children’s literature. I’m also planning to minor in journalism and socio-cultural anthropology.”

“…Huh?”

“Never you mind. Look, the pond’s ahead. Ready to skate?”

She grinned and nodded enthusiastically. She trotted over to the edge of the lake and cleared off a rock before sitting on it. She kicked off her winter boots, one by one, and laced her feet into her ice skates. She looked over to her brother and saw that he too was just as excited.

The two siblings spent most of their Saturday skating with one another. They were joined by Jamie’s friends who came back for a visit. Sophie had to call it quits when she had a coughing fit. Jamie scooped her up and set her on a rock — the same one she had cleared off earlier, she noted when she could breathe normally again. Her brother was hovering nervously nearby, unsure of what to do.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his arms outstretched but not enough to reach her. “You alright? Are you seeing double? How many fingers am I holding up.”

“I’m fine.” she croaked. She swatted at his hand. “And two. You always do two.”

“That’s because it looks like a bunny.” Pippa said. Sophie knew what the young woman was implying but ignored her. Bunny had always been her favorite Guardian and he visited her the most often as a child. He came to see her less as of late, but he had responsibilities and she understood that. Not only that, but she was growing up and the time to say goodbye to seeing him and the others forever was fast approaching.

“I think we should go home.” Jamie said, his voice serious. Sophie opened her mouth to protest, but he had already changed back to his shoes and gathered her’s. He stooped, his back to her, and offered her a ride. 

“We don’t have to.” she said.

“I think we should all go.” Monty said, adjusting his glasses. “We’ll hang out there for a while. I think we could all go for some hot chocolate, yeah?”

And it was agreed upon. To the Bennett’s house they went.

* * *

It was after ten and Jamie’s friends were still downstairs, talking about college and dating and dating in college and other useless things she didn’t care about. Sophie was tired and after a nice hot bath, she was comfortable in her flannel nightgown.

She cracked open one of Jamie’s old story books, one of the ones he wrote growing up. It was the one where Jamie got to meet Mother Goose. Jack _**always** _ took Jamie on adventures growing up. When she was younger, she was jealous, but after Jack explained that it was nothing against her or her being a girl she forgave them. She really didn’t know _**why** _ she forgave them, nor could she properly remember, but she had.

To make it up to her, Jamie would write all of his stories down and give them to her as presents — for birthdays, Christmases, Easters, and for no reason! She rather liked them, and he had rather improved over the years. It was evident in his writing. This book, with Mother Goose, was one of his last. 

She knew the story well, a ship from the Golden Age landed above the ocean and Jack was sent to investigate, really jut see if the people on board were friendly. He brought along Jamie, as per usual, and they accidentally were rounded up by the crew. After some rough questioning, Jack admitted he was a Guardian and a beautiful young woman stepped forward. The two were released and were properly introduced to the young woman, Mother Goose, the crew, and a celestial knight who had vowed a long time ago to protect her.

Even after all of these year, Sophie had never met Mother Goose nor the knight, though she longed to. Perhaps the next time Bunny came to visit, she could get him to take her to wherever they were located and be properly introduced…

A sharp wrap at her window startled her out of her reverie. She jumped and looked over. She spotted the familiar blue hooded sweatshirt and white hair, and she immediately opened the window.

 “Oh, Rapunzel, Rapunzel!” the young man outside said, “Let do your hair.”

“It would be silly to let down my hair,” she said, matter-of-factly, “because you’re already here. Annoying as ever, Mr. Frost, that’s what you are.”

He dramatically placed his hands over his heart and tossed his head back.

“You wound me, dear lady.”

She snorted out a laugh.

“ _Rapunzel_ was your favorite fairy tale, right?” he asked.

“Yes, Jack.” she replied, “It was.”

“But it’s not anymore?”

She shrugged and went back to the book, laid out on her bed.

“Oh, is it story time?” he asked, his eyes alight. “Sophie, love, read to me.”

“You are desperately lonely for a winter spirit with many, loving friends.”

“I do my best to keep my friends entertained.”

“Then you should read to me.” she said, holding the book out to him.

“But you’re so much better at it! Besides, I never learned how to read.”

“Never? Jack, hold on, are you telling me in all the years you’ve been alive, you’ve never been taught how to read?”

“It wasn’t important when I was alive.” he said with a shrug, sitting at the foot of her bed. “We had more important things to worry about, like sheep!”

“You tended to sheep.” she said slowly.

“Um, hello, what do you think my staff is for?”

“I don’t know, pull people off a stage when they’re not funny?”

“…Is that supposed to be an insult? I feel insulted.”

She cracked open a big smile and laughed. Her laughs turned to coughs. Jack looked about nervously, unsure of what to do. Jamie burst in and looked around. He noticed the open window and closed it.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked, his voice harsh and much sharper than it had ever been. “Are you _**trying** _ to make yourself sick?”

Sophie rubbed her throat as the fit died down and wrapped a blanket around her.

“Jack’s here.” she said, picking up the book again. She showed Jamie the book. His face softened. “He wanted me to read to him.”

“Can… can I listen to?” he asked quietly.

She shrugged and opened to the first page.

* * *

Most of Sunday morning was full of sleet and slush. The clouds did not clear up until well into the afternoon and by then everyone in Burgess was in a bad mood. Jamie had to leave in a few hours, but he was not ready to go. Sophie always knew when her brother wanted to leave, but today he looked reluctant and very agitated.

“Do you want to go ice skating?” she asked, holding out his skates. “It’s still cold enough and the lake should be refrozen after the sleet we just had.”

“But it’s warmer out.” he said.

“It cooled down near the end. It’s snowing now.”

He looked outside and saw that she was right. It was snowing. He shrugged and gathered his things, taking his skates from her. She waited patiently by the door for him. 

Jamie locked the door behind them, and they silently walked to the pond. Sophie found herself softly singing under her breath. She honestly could not help it, the song had been stuck in her head for the past month. It was a nice song and the violin at the end _**always** _ sounded sad, no matter how many times she listened to it.

At the pond, the tied their laces and started skating. After twenty minutes, they were laughing and enjoying being outside. Jamie twirled Sophie around, and she went circling toward the center. She stopped herself with her heel, a large grin spreading across her features. She took a step to go back toward him, and she heard a crack. She looked down at her feet and felt her heart sink to her stomach.

“It’s okay.” he said. “It’s okay. Don’t look down, just look at me.”

She nodded slightly.

“Jamie,” she said softly, the cracks starting to spread, “I’m scared.”

“I know, I know.” He took a step toward her, the ice gave under his weight. “But you’re going to be alright. You’re not going to fall in.”

She watched him, with wide and frightened eyes. She sucked in a nervous breath and released it in a hiss.

“Uh…” he said, looking around to see what he had to work with. He looked up at her face and offered a tight smile. “You’re going to toss me one end of your scarf okay?”

“Are you sure that’s going to work?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“I promise, okay? I promise. We always keep our promises. Bennetts always do. You’re going to be fine.”

Sophie glanced down at the ice, not liking the sound it was giving in the least. She glanced back up at her brother and saw his eyes. He was scared too, but he was being strong. For her. He was _**always** _ strong for her.

“Okay,” he said, “ready?”

She unwound her scarf slowly and listened to him count.

“One… two… _**three**_!”

She tossed him one end. His fingers barely touched the fringe.

“One more time. Promise. One… two… _**three**_!”

Jamie caught it this time and pulled with all his might. It sent her careening into a snow bank and him back to where she had been standing. Their eyes, happy and relieved, caught for only a moment. And then Jamie stood up. The ice gave beneath his feet and he plunged into the ice pond.

“ _ **Jamie**_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, go ahead at hate me. This took me roughly two hours to type up. *headdesk* And I wrote it on the fly, too. Not half bad, I must say, for someone who didn’t know what to write.  
> I kind of pictured Jamie as the protective older brother type who would always look out for Sophie, and… yeah. We’ll end with that.


	4. Juliet: Bunnymund, Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romeo and Juliet, as told through SweetTooth via villanelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a thing. It’s a poem (villanelle!) and made me want to bash my head in. I tried to do the villanelle in iambic pentameter (ten beats per line, stress on the second syllable, etc.), but it didn’t word — I think eleven beats per line with me. I wanted to do that because, well, Romeo and Juliet. Halla! *headdesk* I’m too nerdy and too white to do that. Jay Baruchel could do better.  
> Anyway, Nelson Mandela died today. Let’s take a moment to remember him and what he’s done. (beat) Okay, on to the rest of out lives!

‘Twas a love forbidden only in their eyes.      
Two friends who naught but else declined,      
For fear of being kept in a world of lies.

She, the Tooth Fairy, none other than a queen.      
He, a Phooka, the last of his foreign kind.      
‘Twas a love forbidden only in their eyes.

Both, in all things and subjects of love, were green.      
Comrades, of good cheer, saw how they were twined,      
For fear of being kept in a world of lies.

They kept their silence, never making a scene.      
None of their platonic friends seemed to mind,      
‘Twas a love forbidden only in their eyes.

They ran to a place in a world unseen,      
And left their bodies for their friends to find,      
For fear of being kept in a world of lies.

She, the Tooth Fairy, none other than a queen.      
He, a Phooka, the last of his foreign kind.      
‘Twas a love forbidden only in their eyes,      
For fear of being kept in a world of lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. That’s a villanelle. If you couldn’t tell: Bunnymund and Tooth were the main characters playing Romeo and Juliet. I’ll… expand on my thoughts about R&J in the tumblr post that I put up. (Seriously, check out the posts for this. They’re all tagged as “plague rat advent calendar.” I’m icyandthefrostbites on tumblr.)  
> Don’t ask me why I saw SweetTooth as Romeo and Juliet, I just did. Actually, the original idea I had for this I scrapped because it was too silly. I’m glad I changed it.


	5. Rose Red: Jack, Jack's sister, Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack watches over a sad girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this yesterday but uh… yeah… Can we say I was tired? Just a little? And emotionally destroyed? A lot? (Sad movie was involved and then my sister told me to watch a scary film, so I did, and yeah…)  
> Wasn’t really sure how to go about this one, but I came up with something.

After his awakening, Jack Frost wandered around the Earth, but there was something special about the little village near his pond that felt like home. There was a certain sadness — as if everyone suffered from a great loss — that hung overhead. There was one little hut near his pond he often glanced in. They were a nice looking family, if the saddest he had ever seen.

A mother, with big, weepy eyes. A father who was stoic in front of everyone but himself. And lastly a little girl. This little girl never glanced at his pond. She avoided it at all costs, as if something terrible happened there. 

From the moment Jack heard this girl’s name, he longed to hold her and comfort her. Something about that name made him ache with such desire for her to see him. It was such a pretty name, too.

“Sophie,” the mother said, “come help me with this pie.”

The girl slowly trod over, her bare feet making very little noise on the floor. He wondered why she never wore any boots. It was winter and it was very cold out. The first snow was due tomorrow.

The girl gestured to the pie, as if asking what kind it was. That was the first thing Jack learned about the girl, she never talked. She always gestured to things to ask questions. Everyone in the village seemed to have agreed to allow her to go about as she pleased without words. It was as if they knew she could never speak again.

Jack had never seen her smile or heard her laugh, but he craved to hear it. Little Sophie, with her big brown eyes and lovely bark brown hair, was a silent and emotionless child. She never went out and played with the other children her age. She stayed inside and helped her mother and the other ladies who came by to knit and gossip.

Jack knew there were other spirits out in the vast world like himself — he had seen little fairies gathering teeth and leaving gifts. Perhaps they knew of a way to make a child feel happy. No, he tried capturing them once. It… did not end well. 

He sighed and watched as the girl listened to her mother talk.

“It’s a strawberry pie.” the mother said. “They were the last of the strawberries before the frost killed them.” He winced. Oops. 

Sophie’s shoulders slumped. He was quiet sure they would drop to the floor, should they get any lower.

“Strawberries were always his favorite, weren’t they… Perhaps we should go give it to Mary and her family. They like strawberry pie.”

Sophie shook her head violently. She pointed to the pie and then pointed to herself. _**She** _ would eat the pie all by herself. Her mother laughed and set the pie in the oven. She ruffled the girl’s hair, smiling sadly.

“That would be something he would do.”

Jack often wondered who this “he” was. “He” had been mentioned simply as “he” or “him” or something along those lines, never by name. Jack was quite sure it was not the girl’s father — the man disliked strawberries and avoided them like most would dung. “He” must have been the cause for all the sadness. “He” was the problem.

“If I ever find him,” Jack said to his reflection, “I’ll make sure he pays for the things he’s done.”

Years passed and Sophie grew older — she grew up to be quite lovely. Many a young man sought after her hand to marry her. She ended up with a man from overseas. Together, the two of them traveled the world, and had many children together (one of which later returned to the village by his pond), Jack following them when he could to watch over her — that’s how he met the feathered woman whose little fairies collected teeth (she was _**not**_ happy to see him).

“I wish I could do something to cheer her up.” Jack said to the woman.

“There is nothing you can do.” she replied. “But there is something that I can. Tell me, what is her name?”

“Sophie. Sophie Overland. Well, it was ten years ago.”

The woman nodded and bid him farewell. That night after retelling a story about two sisters and their adventures with evil dwarves and a prince who was turned into a bear, Sophie had the happiest dreams she had in a long time. But she awoke, smiling at first and them sobbing vehemently. And for the first time in years, she spoke.

“Jack!” she said, her voice hoarse and trembling. “ _ **Jack**_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was originally going to be more of this, but I didn’t like how that portion ended.  
> I originally wrote the scene with Jack and Tooth in Punjam Hy Loo, and then I remembered Jack… yeah. No memories and all that. So, that was scrapped, but I kept their interaction. Not really friends but not enemies.  
> And yes, I named Jack’s sister Sophie. She was named after Jamie’s sister, whose mother I picture is a genealogist and did research on their family… I believe the Bennetts are related to the Overlands. Let’s just say Jack’s sister married a Bennett and one of their children *coughJackcough* returned to Burgess and he had all male heirs and so did they and so on. I kind of like that idea.  
> And now for a second post!


	6. Save You: Pitch, Seraphina|Emily Jane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch and his daughter have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t post day 6 yesterday (oops), so I did that today. Make sure to go back and check that out.  
> This one is Pitch centric. And there’s an appearance of *gasp* Mother Nature. (Whose name was revealed to be Emily Jane in the fourth book, just in case anyone hadn’t heard by now. If that was a spoiler for someone, uh… sorry? I guess…) I wanted to do a father/daughter thing between them for some time and “Save You” was perfect for it.

Kozmotis Pitchiner looked around him. There was only darkness and emptiness — the two things that dominated his heart and his whole world. This _**was** _ his whole world now, this hollow. He had nothing out there, in the bright and the light. The world above was as foreign to him as the constellations were to the Man in the Moon — something always admired, tangible but never really within reach. 

That was his curse. He had long since accepted it, that he would never be a part of that world again. Hell, the sunlight alone was enough to defeat him. He was not strong, and in the current state of defeat he was in, he would never be a shadow strong enough to overpower the sun and the moon.

With a quavering breath, he trudged down to the darkest, coolest spot his could find. It was a little cave he could rest in for a while — never hide, hiding was for cowards and cravens. He could not recall how long he had been there, a few minutes or a few hundred years he could no longer tell, but there was a soft voice calling for him.

“Pitch?”

He recognized that voice instantaneously. It was his beloved daughter! But… what was she doing here?

“ _ **Father**_?”

His heart — though it had long since stopped and had withered to a husk — leaped to his throat and trembled excitedly in his chest. It was a little bird trying to escape its cage.

“Emily Jane?” he said, his voice as soft as a shadow.

She came into view. Her long, dark hair tumbled down her shoulder and her eyes — mirror images of his own — shone brightly in the darkness. She did not smile, but her face was relieved.

“Sandy told me to look for you.” she said, offering her hand. He did not take it, in fact he dug further in to his hiding spot — she being the only one he could ever hide from. “He was worried.”

He snorted.

“The Sandman? Worried about little ol’ _**me**_? Ha!”

“Pitch Black, do _**not** _ make jests about my friends.”

“I was not aware you had any besides the Star Fish.” What was he _**doing**_? Why was he trying to make her go away? Trying to make her angry at him?

Her fists clenched but she did not remove herself from his side. She sat down at the entrance to the cave and stayed there.

“Please come out of the shadows.” she said softly. “I want to see you. I want to see the man you have become.”

“I am no longer any sort of man.” he replied.

“Mother would be so disappointed, you know, that we hardly ever speak. She would have scolded me from here to the Moon and back at least fifty times by now.”

“Oh, farther than that. I would say to Pluto and back at least seventy times in a century.”

A smile tugged at her lip, but she repressed it once again.

“Why do you do that?” she asked.

“Do… _**what**_?”

“Try to make me hate you and then joke about something? Why do you do it?”

“I…” Did he even know? Yes, he was quite sure he did, but he was not ready to admit it to her.

“You’re trying to protect me.”

It was not a question. He gulped and flattened his hair against his head, looking at his feet. He dared a glance at her and felt his world instantly crumble before her.

“I am.” he said. “But…”

“The darkness in your heart, I know. We are still looking, Máni and I. And those two, Nightlight and Katherine, are too. They’ve been gone for many years now.”

“They have.”

Kozmotis remembered the girl Katherine and the starboy Nightlight. Both of them were as fierce as any of the other Guardians, if not more so, and were wise beyond their years. He secretly hoped they could rescue him from himself before… Before _**what**_? That was a good question.

“Why are you still in the shadows?” Emily Jane said, tilting her head as she tried to catch a better glimpse of him.

“I am trying to save you.” he said.

“Save me?

“I am trying to save you from me. And until that day, I will continue to stay in the shadows.” She caught sight of his eyes at last and reached out to him.

“Go home, Mother Nature. You have storms to plan and spirits to control. Winter is over in this hemisphere, but that Jack Frost will wreak havoc if he isn’t controlled.”

She hesitated and nodded. She turned to leave, but she stopped. She turned back to him. And she smiled before vanishing into a misty cloud and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …I felt so awkward writing that. *falls to floor* I need to work on parent/child interactions more.   
> Anyway… Katherine and Nightlight. I mentioned something about them during day 1. Actually, it was more of a hint than anything else. I predict by the end of the series, the two of them (as well as everyone else) will take the ship-tower-thingy in the New City to the North and then MiM will send the pair on a quest out in space to find a way to rid Pitch of the shadows. (Prediction dated 07 Dec. 2013. Er, make that earlier than that. 05 Nov. 2013, really. I should have posted that to tumblr…)  
> I’m still working on day 2 and have started on day 8. So, hopefully I can get those both up soon.


	7. What If: Jack, Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wonders about a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, tried writing this earlier today but it wasn’t working out. Finally got somewhere near what I wanted, so yeah. I had many distractions (hair dyeing, scarf knitting, what I’m going to get my dad for Christmas, strawberries and sugar, chips and salsa, I never had dinner…?, I have schoolwork to do, new story idea *sigh*, and other stuff).   
> But in other news, I dyed my hair… again. I don’t think any of you know, but I dye my hair whenever I can. I started when I was fifteen and have done it many times since. I look good with red hair, so that’s generally what I’ve been going with for the past… five years. I’ve had every natural hair color imaginable and I settled on red. Why? …I have very fair skin, freckles, and blue eyes. Need I say more?  
> Anyway, “What If” by Emilie Autumn is a beautiful song. It’s her one song that her fans (plague rats and muffins alike) hope that she’ll play in concert. It is the most moving thing she’s ever composed. I don’t remember if Inky was her producer for it. I know they knew each other. I probably need to go back and listen to the Companion…

Jack decided that loneliness was lonely, for the four hundredth time in what felt like a month but was really an hour. Sure, he liked spending time by himself and being around others too long tended to set a definite chill in their bones. It was something he had grown used to — when he saw the person he was with was shivering, he would dismiss himself and allow them to warm up.

So, he often spent long durations of time by his lonesome in the quiet vastness of Antarctica. Nice place, really. Lots of snow and ice, not to mention penguins and seals. And krill. _**Lots** _ of krill.

He jumped in the air when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He spun his staff around, knocking the person to the ground. He winced when he saw who it was.

“Sorry, Tooth.” he said, offering his hand. She accepted it, her feathers ruffled and snow clung to her. “You startled me.”

“It was my fault.” she said, shaking herself off. “I should have known better than to sneak up on you. At least I landed in the snow, unlike the time when I scared Bunny and…”

Jack titled his head and tried not to smile. Tooth was a talkative person, easy to like, and comfortable to be around. But she did have a tendency to forget that another person was a part of her conversation. She would snap back quickly if she felt like she was rambling, which she was at this point.

“Er, sorry.” she said, smoothing back the feathers on her head. “Anyway, I came by to talk.”

“Talk?” he said, cocking a brow. “Talk about what? The weather? Guardian duties? _**Teeth**_?”

The last one was meant to be a joke, but she still flushed with embarrassment. She smiled nervously and walked to a cliff. She sat down and patted the spot next to her. He padded over and plopped down.

“So, tell me. What’s up?” she said, turning to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always the last to arrive and the first to leave at meetings. When you stop by to say ‘hello,’ you don’t stay too long. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Jack, something’s troubling you. _**Tell me**_.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“What if I’m not good enough to be a Guardian?” he said, not meeting her eyes. He instead gazed out that the horizon. It was all white and gray and cold.

“What do you mean?”

“I make everybody cold. You guys can barely stand to be around me for twenty minutes before shivering. What if I’m not good enough to be a Guardian? What if I accidentally kill someone — one of you guys or Jamie and Sophie or…?”

She took his hand in her own. She traced figures and symbols on his hand. It took him a minute to realize that she was spelling out his name in several different languages. He had to admit, it kind of tickled.

“You couldn’t ever kill anyone.” she said. “You wouldn’t allow that to happen. I know you and I know your heart. You’re too good for this world, Jack. You’re kind and brave and smart and funny. You go out of your way to make sure everyone is having fun without getting hurt. You protect every one of us. Stop doubting yourself, you’re a wonderful Guardian, and I’m glad to call you my friend.”

She beamed brightly at him. Her teeth perfectly white and straight, neater than his own. She had the widest smile he had ever seen and he liked it. He returned her smile with one of his own and nodded.

“Hey,” he said, shooting up, “race you to the North Pole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, friendly Jack and Tooth. I’m between a crap load of ships right now (Frostbite, Sweettooth, Christmas Cookie, Black Ice, etc.), so I’m trying to stay away from all shipping.  
> …unless there’s food in it for me. I like food.  
> Think I’m going to go listen to Boars, Gore, and Swords now. Bye. See you.  
> …  
> XD


	8. Opheliac: Bunny, Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter dug deep into somethings I generally stay away from nowadays and really describes what it means to be an “Opheliac” — a person who is self-destructive through causes of internal or external forces. There is self-harm ahead of you. You have been warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, you don’t have to read my notes. They’re really for me to help me wrap my head around what I just wrote. Basically, they’re my ramblings and they don’t always make sense.  
> And as of today, we move into the Opheliac Era of Emilie Autumn’s career. Suicide and self-destruction and asylum-ness abound. *headdesk* On top of that it is considered to be the favored era by her fans. For me, I’m not picky. I came in during Enchant (2001-2005) and mostly hung around because of some personal stuff. I left for a while, sometime around 2007, and came back in 2010. So much had happened. I really came back in time for the book (WHICH I HAVE IN MY GRASP! …well… it’s on my bookshelf within reach at the moment…) and more people being angry at her for switching music genres again. I… managed to stay out of it for the most part, thank god, and just enjoyed the music.  
> “Opheliac” is an interesting piece — for more info about the song check out my tumblr page, the tag will be “plague rat advent calendar” as well as “opheliac” (as is the case with every day, you can search by day or song). The instruments in the second verse? Pure effing genius.  
> Anyway, this day. What to say about this day? I had to listen to Companion again (Companion being the Opheliac Companion which goes over the process of writing, composing, and producing each song — fun to listen to, by the way, if you want to spend a few days of your life holed up in your room) to really get a good grasp of this song. After getting through it, I realized it was pointless and I just started writing. Fun day. Well spent.  
> Without further ado, enjoy!

Man, he was pathetic.

He was hungry but then again he wasn’t. It’s hard to describe what it’s like; like, you know your body needs nutrition and energy, but something inside is holding you back and keeping you from giving yourself what you need to live. 

And it just wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t eating. In his bag was what he need to heal himself. No he didn’t cut — that would just be plain stupid and people would question where he got the cut, he couldn’t say a cat because, well, he had established earlier that year that he was allergic to animal dander. So, he chose a different method: burning. And pulling at a few hairs that bugged him.

It wasn’t fun, nor was it easy, but it was life and it was the only way he knew how to live. 

So, for lunch, he only got a salad and a bottle of water. Anything else would  have upset his stomach — seeing as how he missed dinner the night before and breakfast that morning; not on purpose, of course, he just hadn’t been hungry.

And now he was regretting it. Why hadn’t he grabbed a cereal bar before school?

He sat down at the table with his friends and smiled, nibbling like a rabbit on the vegetables in front of him. He laughed and joked with them, forgetting for a moment of the pain that haunted him.

What was _**wrong** _ with him? He didn’t honestly know. There were days he was happy, over-elated, and ready to take on the world. Then there were days he could barely get out of bed in the morning. It took a lot of will power to get up. It didn’t hurt that his friends would text him in the morning to get him motivated.

“Bunny,” Toothiana said, gripping his arm right above a white gauze bandage. Well, shit. “What did you do to your arm?”

“I, uh, burned myself last night.” he said, looking down at it. “I reached over a candle and, well, yeah…”

She frowned and peeled back the tape to examine it.

“It looks bad.”

“It looks worse than it actually is.”

“Do you have anything to help it?”

“I’ve got some cream in my bag.” He nodded to the backpack that hung off the back of his chair. He almost panicked when she unzipped it and dug around. He watched her face as she saw what he had — burn cream, gauze, bandage tape, matches, and a candle. (The candle and matches being for when he couldn’t be near his actual equipment.) She didn’t say anything, but she grabbed out the healing materials and got to work on treating it. When she was done, she replaced everything back in his bag and jumped right back into the conversation.

He peeked at her the rest of the hour, and he waited for her to say something after lunch. She never did. He waited a few days for a lecture or something, but still she never responded. 

When he returned to school after a long weekend, bearing another burn, she treated that one too. And the one after that. She never said a thing about them. Nor did she ever say a word about how little he had been eating lately.

Then he came back around, feeling happy, over-elated, and ready to take on the world. It didn’t last long, but it was enough to properly get her attention.

“Okay,” she said, one fine Thursday afternoon as they walked home, “talk to me. What’s up with you?”

“I’m not sure, honestly.” he replied. “I’m happy, I’m sad —”

“You burn yourself. Talk, Bunnymund.”

“Can we just… _**not**_?”

“How about every time you think about it, you call or text me?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t _**think** _ about it, it just _**happens**_. It’s all on impulse, sheila.”

“Fine. How about every time you find yourself doing it, you contact me? Please? You need someone to talk to…”

“I’ll be fine.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, but he noticed she had stopped walking and was looking down at the ground. A strained, sad look crossed her face.

“Bunny,” she said, “you ever wonder what happened to Jack Frost?”

“The winter spirit?”

“No, Jack Frost. The white-haired guy who sat behind us in Anatomy.”

“Oh. What?” he said, blinking innocently. The kid had died sometime during the winter vacation last year. He slid on an icy road and the car landed in a lake. He couldn’t get himself and his sister out in time, but he had managed to save her.

“He planned to kill himself.” she said. “When he and I were partners for the cat dissection, I accidentally saw what he was writing one day. Bunny, he burned himself like you do. _**Please**_ , for my sake, call me… text me… whatever! Just let me know, okay?”

He was silent for a moment, staring at her.

“Are you saying,” he said slowly, “that he committed suicide that day?”

“Yes… no… I don’t know. I don’t think he planned on having his sister with him, she just happened to be there and… I don’t know. No. He didn’t. It just… it happened.”

He watched her in silence. She had started to cry, a bit of snot had started to run out of a nostril. She looked a mess, but there was something pathetic and sad about it that he felt himself cave.

“Alright.” he said. “I’ll call. Just remember, you have to pick up. No matter what time it is or where you are.”

“Promise.” she said, wiping her face with her shirt sleeve. She held out her fist, her tiny pinkie finger poking up.

“Seriously.”

“Promise me, okay?”

He sighed and looped his pinkie finger with her’s. Man, he was pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, no cutting but burning. I… know too much about burning, more than I should (never did it). I had a friend who did. He ended up committing suicide by drug overdose a while back. This is sort of dedicated to him.  
> I don’t condone self-harm or self-mutilation, but I know too much about it and why people do it. I also get what it’s like not to be properly medicated (still not there yet, over on my end) or treated at all. It’s hard.  
> Gosh, this is supposed to be about Christmas and whatnot and all I’ve given you guys is depressing stuff. I need happiness and fluff! Quick, someone point me to something happy!


	10. Dead is the New Alive: Bunnymund, Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible idea with a terrible prank and a late posting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be up a while ago. Oops. Uh… yeah.  
> I had finals going on and this just got pushed back due to a project for my Creative Writing class. Anyway, I’m back and catching up on these things. Sorry about the wait.

E. Aster Bunnymund was a normal phooka — well, as normal as the last surviving member of the phooka race could be. He often spent a lot of time alone in his warren, his home, or watching over his human friend or visiting the other Guardians of Childhood. While he occasionally received visitors, he usually knew they were coming. However, since the Guardians welcomed a new member to their group, he had been receiving visits from Jack Frost that often left him breaking or blowing up something.

So when music started playing, he knew immediately who to suspect.

“Okay, you gumbie,” Bunnymund said, “I’m not in the mood for pranks.”

The music continued. To his right, Jack Frost — donning a mask shaped like a skull — jumped up and started lip syncing.

“ _Dead is the new alive,_  
 _Despair’s the new survival,_  
 _A pointless point of view._  
 _Give in, give in, give in, give in,_  
 _You play the game_  
 _You'll never win_.”

Bunnymund sighed and decided to just sit it out to see what would happen. It was a harmless prank, right?

“ _Dead is the new alive,_  
 _Life's only living rival,_  
 _A casket built for two._  
 _Give in, give in, give in, give in,_  
 _You play the game_  
 _You'll never win_.”

Wait… what was this song about? Dying? Death? What in Gaia’s good name did the winter spirit think he was doing?

“ _So take me now or take me never,_  
 _I won't wait,_  
 _You're already late._  
 _So say goodbye or say forever,_  
 _Choose your fate._  
 _How else can we survive?_  
 _Dead is the new alive._ ”

“Uh…” Bunnymund said, watching as Jack flipped around, pretending to sing the song. He continued to do so for quite some time. He moved gracefully, spinning a feather fan — what had _**that** _ come from?! — over his head. The phooka was seriously debating whether or not to rush off to the other Guardians and have a meeting about their newest member.

“What is happening right now?” he said, folding his ears flat against his head to stop the thumping of the deep bass from busting his ear drums. That hurt. And… where did all the glitter come from?

“ _Dead is the new alive~._ ”

Jack finished appropriately in a showgirl pose, fan above his head, winking. In a flash, he disappeared. Bunnymund was alone again. A breeze sent the glitter on the green floor of the warren into a little tumble. In the distance a bird cawed. To himself, Bunnymund said:

“What just happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just as how I envisioned it. Why? “Dead is the New Alive” parodies the Goths who follow musicians and bands just because of their image or their music. (More expanded on my tumblr.) The song being a part of a very confusing prank of sorts was a comical idea to me. So, it happened.  
> I had written a poem for the prompt instead at one point, but it… I burned it. We’ll just go with that.  
> …I burned a lot of paper that day…

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Máni is the personification of the moon in Norse mythology. There, he is the biological brother of the sun, Sól, son of Mundilfari, and father of Hjúki and Bil. Monday was named after him. AND he, as many scholars believe, may be the potential connection of Northern European notion for the Man in the Moon.  
> Well, that’s day 1! Maybe see you guys tomorrow with day 2 and day 3? We’ll see!  
> …exclamation point…!


End file.
